OK, it wasn’t totally blind, but I met this chick when I was plowed and we exchanged info. Her idea was to go to a Queensryche concert (opening act: Flotsam and Jetsam!) in Columbus. We met at my house on a Wednesday and she was, of course, very late. We hopped in my sweet Buick Skylark (formerly owned by a 90 year old woman) and set off for romance!
In the car, on a five lane highway, she busted out a Michelob Ultra at 6:15 pm (broad daylight) and put it betwixt her legs after a slug of the warm brew. She then pulled out a bowl and lit up some sweetleaf. I looked at her with shock. “Oh, I’m sorry! Do you want to hit this?” No, not really. In fact, that’s not why I’m pissed. More of the fact YOU’RE SMOKING POT AND DRINKING BEER IN MY CAR. WITHOUT EVEN A COURTESY ASK. No big deal…hell, why don’t you tie off your arm and shoot up? Drug arrests are fun!
We got to the bag o’ shit concert and within 10 minutes she saw her former live-in boyfriend/baby daddy/meth addict. “Oh my God! He came for me! I have to talk to him!” Off she went…for the rest of night. As much I dig “Silent Lucidity,” I was steamed. The concert ended at midnight, but I stuck around for an hour until the roadies/janitors booted me. I called her over 20 times and not one call. After waiting in the parking lot like a rapist, I finally gave up and left at 2 am. Did I mention I had to be at work at 6:30? 35 minutes from my house?
I awoke, fresh as a dog turd, at 5:30 on minimum sleep. My VM revealed to me, courtesy worst human ever, that I ditched her and she got robbed at 3 am trying to find my apartment after no manners got into a fight w/ bastard maker (the ex-boyfriend) and had to hitch a ride with some dude. He stole her money and left her at a gas station. Yep, what a dick I am.
I called her back at 10 am (at work). She sounded like she’d been doing hard drugs and called me a dick. Hmmmm…. I proceeded to destroy her soul’s existence and said some things about how she should thank God I stuck around for her diseased ass in the first place. I then may have went into how white trash can’t wash the stink off and she should hit her knees to thank God she only got robbed instead of doing what she normally did on her knees. I am very understanding and caring. Well, we never dated again, but every time I hear “Jet City Woman,” I flip off a chick on principle.